


Thinking Out Loud

by dreamingoutloud



Series: Flawed-The Enjolras/Grantaire Song Fic Collection [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Politics, Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Thinking Out Loud, ed sheeran inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4042201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingoutloud/pseuds/dreamingoutloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is dragged to a political event in an effort to be supportive of Enjolras.  He feels completely out of his element until he hits the dance floor.  But a jealous Enjolras (who is really bad at dancing) has to step in and reclaim that spot in his boyfriend's arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elliebeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebeth/gifts).



> So my bff and I role-play these two on a regular basis. I made a playlist of songs for them and Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud became their slow dance song for me. I've since decided I want to make one fic for each song on the playlist so here is number one of hopefully 15!

He knew he should have been grateful.  Most people would have killed for what he had.  A night with a gorgeous man on his arm, being introduced to some of the most influential people in US politics.  He’d met Senators, Representatives, diplomats.  The most important part of it all was that he’d been introduced as the boyfriend to the successful young politician taking the election by storm.  Though it was something they rarely discussed, he did love being acknowledged.  Enjolras’ sexuality was a hot topic from Washington all the way to Hollywood.  The bright young leader was charismatic and charming, earning him fans from far more than the political circle.  But not only was he open about the fact that he was taken, he admitted to being with a man.  Something Grantaire couldn’t even have begun to hope for years ago.    
  
What he really wanted, though, was some time alone with his boyfriend.  He found the scene overwhelming, and all he really wanted to do was bury himself in a drink or ten.  But he’d given it up, all for Enjolras, and he didn’t think now was a good time to revisit that.  Pariticularly on a night that was so important to the public image of the man he loved.  So he’d bitten his lip, clenched his jaw, and forced a smile as he shook hands of people whose names he couldn’t even hope to remember.    
  
He was, admittedly, grateful when the fancy dinner portion of the evening came to an end.  The food had been excellent but he’d been too nervous to eat, prompting Enjolras to tease him for his picky eating habits.  Despite being raised in a middle class family, he’d never really attended anything of this magnitude and was constantly worried he’d mess something up.  He also had barely spoken to anyone, since everyone would likely be questioning his opinions about Enjolras’ political platform.  Something Grantaire was, admittedly, still questioning himself.  He loved his partner.  He didn’t so much love his obsession with saving the world.  
  
The plates were cleared by a catering staff, which Grantaire actually found somewhat amusing.  Considering these people were supposed to be all about equality.  His eyebrows lifted at his boyfriend and Enjolras just shrugged.  He knew there wasn’t much Enjolras could have done, it wasn’t as if he was the one throwing the party.  If he had been, it would have been him and his friends cleaning up, and then they could resume having fun.  Instead, he merely took Grantaire’s elbow and guided him into the large ballroom.  
  
Ostentatious.  It was the first thought that came to Grantaire’s mind.  The second was that he longed to try and capture the prisms the crystals of the chandeliers were casting on the walls.  The thousands of pieces of crystal caused so many colors to blend and combine that he ached for his paints.  Just another few hours and they could get out of there and he could hide in his studio until the blood quit pounding behind his eyes and the burn of his fingers faded.  A server walked by with a tray of champagne and he gulped back the urge to grab one of the fancy glasses.  The hand on his elbow slipped down to entertwine fingers with his and he released a slow breath, looking up into crystal blue eyes.  “You’re doing beautifully,” his partner told him gently, his forehead leaning in to briefly touch Grantaire’s before straightening.  Even just that briefly intimate moment was enough to convince Grantaire that this was the right thing to do.    
  
They made their way to a table just off of the dance floor.  A plate of hors d’oeuvres sat in the middle of the table as well as water in an elegant crystal pitcher with equally elegant glasses.  It was certainly an impressive spread.  Both of their names were there on tiny cards, though Enjolras had seemed to know which table would be theirs. To his pleasure, Grantaire found they were seated with the rest of Enjolras’ team, including people Grantaire considered friends.  At least when his boyfriend got snatched up into deep political discussions, Grantaire would have a few people he might actually feel comfortable around.  During the dinner, they’d been seated at entire other tables.  Something about mixing the parties.    
  
Another surprise was that the music wasn’t some eloquent string quartet or jazz ensemble.  There was a DJ, playing current and classic music.  As the lights dimmed and the music truly began, Grantaire breathed another sigh of relief.  Perhaps this more casual portion of the evening wouldn’t be quite so miserable.  He even saw a few men he’d written off as stuffy and old removing their tuxedo jackets or loosening their ties.  Not his boyfriend, though.  As always, Enjolras still looked impeccable, even after hours of boring dinner conversation and a cocktail hour prior to that.  His curls were perfectly combed into place, as if Grantaire hadn’t seen them loose and wild early that morning.  His smile was still brightly in place, all charm and power.  There was a reason the entire district was falling for him.  The entire country was beginning to fall for him.  The man could take over the world with just a bat of his perfect eyes.  And Grantaire was, somehow, lucky enough to be the one he’d fallen in love with.    
  
He was fidgeting and he knew it.  It was a habit, particularly without alcohol to soothe his nerves.  In his usual perfect boyfriend way, Enjolras seemed to get that, too.  He glanced sideways at Grantaire and grinned.  “Go,” he urged, nodding towards the dance floor.  “I know you’re dying to.  Pick some pretty girl and go dance.”    
  
Despite himself, his face fell a little.  “You don’t want to dance?”  Disappointment was written all over his features.  From the fall of his eyes to the slight pout of his lower lip.  Grantaire would never be the one to say it, but all of his friends called it adorable.  Including the redhead seated across from him.  Lydia lifted her eyebrows, watching the exchange.  She’d been Enjolras’ personal assistant for a while, and she and Grantaire had hit it off quickly.    
  
The look Enjolras gave in return was nothing if not sheepish.  His eyes dropped to the table and he shrugged his shoulders.  “You know better, Taire.  I’m a terrible dancer.”  As Grantaire didn’t seem particularly cheered by this, Enjolras reached out, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.  “Honestly.  You deserve some fun after tolerating all of that at dinner.  You and Lydia go,” he urged.  “I’m proud to sit here and watch and claim that graceful man as mine.”  
  
Grantaire hesitated again, but Lydia took that moment to hop up and wink at Enjolras.  “Don’t worry, Mr. Fluffles.  I’ll take care of him.”  She made a move as if attempting to ruffle the hair that Enjolras had so desperately wrangled into a sleek style as opposed to its usual mop of curls.  When he flinched, she grinned and reached for Grantaire’s hand.  “Come on, handsome.  Let’s go show your man what he’s missing.”    
  
  


***

 

Enjolras watched as his boyfriend left to dance with someone else.  Sure, it was Lydia, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t trust them both.  Hell, he trusted Grantaire in general, no matter who cut in on them that night.  It didn’t make it any easier to watch.  Logically, he knew it was his own choice.  His dancing really did leave much to be desired.  After such a successful evening full of swaying and charming and ‘schmoozing’, as Lydia called it, he couldn’t possibly muck it all up with embarrassing himself on the dance floor.  Besides, everyone already knew Grantaire was with him.  He’d made sure everyone knew that as he’d introduced him all night.  They’d see the graceful, handsome man spinning and twirling with Lydia and various other women who occasionally cut in as his.  It was something, at least.

That didn’t stop the burn of jealousy in the pit of his stomach.  That urge to be the one with Grantaire’s arms wrapped around him.  While logically he knew that he would have Grantaire’s arms for the rest of the night, that didn’t make seeing him with others any easier.  

It had certainly allowed his boyfriend to loosen up, however.  The nervous tension had left Grantaire’s shoulders and the worry lines in his forehead had melted into something resembling a smile, if not an entirely relaxed one.  This was Grantaire’s domain, not his.  Enjolras’ home was in the other room, enthusiastically sharing ideas and debating concepts.  It was vying for endorsements and winning over potential opponents.  Grantaire belonged in a world more like this one, where his creativity could be unleashed.  If not with a brush and canvas, with his body.  And that body was winning over every heart in that room just then.  At last count, his partner had danced with at least six women.  And though they were the only two openly outed men in the room, Enjolras swore he saw at least two of the Representatives eyeing his boyfriend.  

By the time Grantaire came over to stop for water, Enjolras was frustrated in multiple ways.  Emotionally, mentally, and...well, yes, sexually, too.  Grantaire was arousing to watch, that much was obvious.  

He was grinning, though, as he dropped into the chair beside him.  “Still wearing your jacket?” he questioned with a laugh.  Grantaire’s had been ditched over half an hour ago, along with his bow tie.  The casual atmosphere in the room reflected the change, but Enjolras still looked as put together as he had when they’d walked in the door hours ago.  He hesitated before shrugging out of the jacket.  He left the tie in place, however.  

“Better?” he asked as Grantaire reached for the pitcher to fill up another glass of water.  At his boyfriend’s bright smile, he knew he’d made the right choice.  

The music finally switched from the fast paced rock music it had been playing to something slower, and more soothing.  It was a song Enjolras recognized, though he admittedly didn’t listen to a lot of popular radio.  He hesitated another moment before standing, and reaching his hand out.  When Grantaire looked up at him with a quizzical expression, Enjolras smiled down at him.  “Dance with me?”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “Apollo?  You don’t have to do this...”

”I want to,” he insisted.  And he did.  Admittedly, he was still nervous.  Even basic slow dancing, a simple swaying from side to side, could go terribly wrong when one wasn’t even the slightest bit skilled as a dancer.  But he trusted the man he loved.  If anyone could make him look good for a dance, it was Grantaire.  It would be good publicity, too.  A few press photos released of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms wouldn’t go astray.

And if Enjolras tried really, really hard, he could almost make himself believe that was the entire reason for asking for a dance.  

The vocals ended the first verse as Grantaire finally accepted the offered hand and stood, taking the lead and guiding his boyfriend on to the dance floor.  Enjolras actually felt a bit dizzy as Grantaire pulled him close, one arm around his waist, the other holding his hand.  Not out to the side, as if they were doing any form of formal ballroom dancing.  No, he held his boyfriend’s hand close to his shoulder, resting against him.  Enjolras’ nerves began to calm as he found that warm, safe place against his boyfriend’s chest.  His arm wrapped around Grantaire’s shoulders, holding him just that much closer.  

By that point, the chorus of the song was beginning, and Enjolras found himself nestling his face into Grantaire’s neck.  It no longer mattered that some of the most influential names in America were in the room.  It didn’t matter that the press was watching and probably having a field day.  Everything from Newsweek to Seventeen magazine.  The only thing that mattered was the feel of Grantaire’s arm around his waist and his fingers in his and his breath against his neck.  

_I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand.  Me I fall in love with you every single day.  And I just want to tell you I am._

“Love you,” he whispered, so quietly only Grantaire would be able to hear him.  Those words weren’t meant to be heard by anyone else in the room.  They didn’t need to be.  It was an emotion obviously felt between them.  Anyone with eyes would see that.  No, they only needed to be said to the man holding him so close they were barely moving.  What they were doing could hardly be called dancing.  It was more a gentle sway if anything.  And Enjolras was entirely okay with that.

Though earlier he’d been nervous about being presented as the same sex partner to a prominent player in the political game, Grantaire seemed to have let all of that slide by then.  His lips came to gently rest on Enjolras’ jaw.  “Love you, too,” he murmured.  He pulled back a bit so light blue eyes could look into Enjolras’ deeper blue ones.  They were nearly gray that night, with all the stress they’d been dealing with, though the shade was lost in the darkness of the room.  It didn’t matter.  Grantaire knew every shade they could turn by that point, and knew exactly which color to reach for to recreate it.  

_Cause honey your soul could never grow old, it’s evergreen.  And baby your smile’s forever in my mind and memory._

He felt like he'd stopped breathing at some point.  The rest of the room had somehow faded into the background and the only thing he could focus on was the man who had stolen his heart somehow.  From the constant bickering and arguing, the fighting for Grantaire's sobriety, and yet somehow, they'd ended up here.  Desperately in love, still occasionally snipping at each other, but stronger for it.

”Thank you,” Enjolras said softly.  “For coming tonight.”  He knew how hesitant Grantaire had been.  Afraid he’d mess something up for Enjolras’ campaign, either by saying the wrong thing or simply by being male.  But it seemed Enjolras’ plan to send his boyfriend out to the dance floor had worked.  Grantaire had accidentally charmed an entire room.  Now they would charm them all together, though by that point neither cared.  

Grantaire’s smile was sheepish.  He ducked his head, avoiding Enjolras’ intense gaze.  Despite his constant insistence that Enjolras was the beautiful one, his natural grace and gorgeous smile couldn’t be denied.  “You asked.  It’s hard to tell you no, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.  Fortunately, it looks like all these people agree with me.”  

”What people?” Enjolras murmured, his arms sliding around Grantaire’s neck and kissing him lightly.  

A deep blush crept up Grantaire’s neck and he blinked.  “I...  Apollo, this probably isn’t the place.”  They weren’t even dancing by that point.  Simply standing on the dance floor, amidst a dozen other couples and being admired by at least a dozen others.  

_Take me into your loving arms.  Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.  Place your head on my beating heart._

“Then let’s get out of here,” Enjolras urged.  He couldn’t help grinning as his boyfriend’s eyes widened.  “Unless you desperately want to stay.”

So quickly his curls flopped into his face, Grantaire shook his head.  “No, no, not at all.  I...  Just kind of wish we were doing this at home, is all.”  His voice lowered though his tone remained teasing.  “Horizontally, preferably.  In our bed.”

It was Enjolras’ turn for his eyes to widen.  “Ours?” he asked.  Though he and Grantaire had been together for a while and had taken turns sleeping over at each other’s houses, they’d never referred to either of their lodgings as...well, _theirs_.  It was always his or Grantaire’s.  He tried to keep his voice relaxed and casual but inside, his shock was evident.

Apparently his eyes showed it, too, because Grantaire laughed.  “Ours,” he confirmed.  “Move in with me.  Let’s make this official.  If I’m going to be the proper partner of a politician, let’s do it right.”

Enjolras couldn’t fight the grin on his face if he had tried.  “Or we could look into getting a place of our own.”

”Afraid to be on my home turf?” his boyfriend teased, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.  The song had since changed, but neither one really noticed.  Though Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, he found a finger on his lips cutting him off.  “I think that sounds like an incredible idea.  How about we leave, get a mediocre night of sleep, and start looking in the morning?”

And though it may have broken every rule of protocol, Enjolras slipped out of the event early, his fingers wrapped tightly in the hand of the man he loved. 


End file.
